


The Current

by SomewhereApart



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Comfort, Gen, Nightmares, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-17
Updated: 2014-07-17
Packaged: 2018-02-09 05:59:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,081
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1971561
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SomewhereApart/pseuds/SomewhereApart
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Regina wakes from a nightmare in Neverland, and Snow wants to talk about it. Regina, not so much.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Current

The current runs through her like water. Like boiling, hot water, and every muscle in her body seizes up and locks tight. The pain is extreme, excruciating, and if she could think, she'd be damning the cuff on her wrist that is keeping her magic at bay. The one that keeps her from freeing herself.

The current fades, and her heart is racing, her muscles buzzing, a bloom of sweat on her skin. Her wrists and ankles are sore under the leather, but she w _ill. not. break._

"You deserve this," Greg tells her, and she watches him dial the voltage higher with a slick curl of dread. But she keeps her face impassive. She doesn't show it. She will not break. "You're an evil, murderous bitch, and you deserve this for every heart you ever ripped out. Every life you ever ruined." She shifts her gaze to the ceiling, sucking in deep lungfuls of fish and salt water. Preparing herself for the agony she knows is coming. And then she hears a familiar voice, her favorite voice, so young and sweet, but not today. Her heart jackhammers, and she turns again to look at him. Greg is now Henry, his hand hovering over the switch, and he's staring hard at her. Hatefully. "My life," he says, and she breathes _Henry, no..._ But he just continues "You ruined everything, and now you lost me, and you deserve this."

She opens her mouth to cry out his name but before she can, he flips the switch and the current hits her and the pain is unbearable.

Regina wakes with a start, gasping for air as she bolts upright.

"Regina!" She hears Snow's voice to her right and whips around to look at her, panic and phantom pain still crushing around her heart. Snow is scrambling off her palette, kneeling at Regina's side, eyes full of concern. "Are you alright? What is it?"

Regina looks around frantically, disoriented. It's dark, and humid, and she's surrounded by jungle foliage and the buzzing, croaking sounds of insects and frogs. The smell of damp earth and night-blooming flowers. Neverland, she remembers. They're in Neverland.

She's in Neverland with the Charmings, and Emma, and Hook, and oh, God, they're all staring at her from their own bedrolls, wide-eyed and cautious. She must have cried out. Wonderful. She can add humiliation to the jumble of emotions she's feeling.

Regina lets out a shuddering breath and tries (but fails) to keep her voice from shaking when she sneers insistently, "I'm fine." She's pretty sure she does not sound fine, but all the same, she smoothes her hands down her front, pushes at her blanket, and moves onto her knees. She grips Snow's shoulder just long enough to shove herself to her feet, and mutters, "I just need a minute," before traipsing off into the trees.

The ground is soft and cool under her bare feet, and the leaves whip against her skin as she stalks her way down the path they'd trod to get here. She has enough sense not to stray too far - the last thing she needs is to get lost. She just needs to put enough distance between herself and the others to get her breath back, to calm her racing heart without an audience. When she spies a large boulder near the path, she stops, settles herself down onto it and drops her head into her hands.

She forces air into lungs still tight with an undercurrent of apprehension, but when she closes her eyes all she sees is that hateful look on her sweet baby boy's face, so she forces them back open at stares at her toes. Curls them against the ground, breathes in deep and slow. Again, and then again.

Just a dream. She's fine. Just a stupid, useless dream.

But it's so vivid - the helplessness, the misery, the searing pain and the fear. The guilt. She can feel her fingers trembling where they're fisted in her hair, and she makes a point to relax them, to drop her hands in front of her. She tilts her palm up and focuses, and it takes a fraction of a second but soon there's a little ball of flame flickering in her palm. Reassuring her that her powers are still intact, still with her. She is not helpless. Maybe her fingers still tremble, but she is not helpless.

"Regina?"

Regina rolls her eyes, and snuffs the flame. Regrets lighting it in the first place.

Then Snow walks closer, sits on the boulder beside her, close enough that their legs brush, and Regina wishes she'd picked a smaller rock. She folds her hands together, squeezes. Refuses to meet Snow's concerned gaze.

Blessedly, the bratty little princess keeps her mouth shut. For a minute. A minute exactly, Regina knows, because she's been counting the seconds, wondering who would break first. She wonders if Snow was doing the same, then dismisses it. Who cares anyway?

"Was it the cannery?" Snow asks softly, and Regina's face twists into a disgusted sneer. Partly out of irritation that she's even in this conversation, and partly because she hates that she's so transparent. So weak.

"What does it matter to you?" she replies bitterly.

Snow sounds less concerned and more irritated (perfect, that's much better) when she says, "Well, we're all stuck here together, so I figured it wouldn't kill us to be kind for moment."

Regina rolls her eyes so hard it actually hurts a little, shaking her head. She keeps her mouth shut tightly - her dark nightmares are none of Snow's damn business. She doesn't realize she's rubbing her wrists where the restraints had chafed her until Snow's hand settles softly over hers.

Regina jerks her hand away like she's been burned, then presses her palms hard against her knees. Finally, she asks in a tone flat and emotionless, "Did I scream?" Because if she has to face the others, she at least wants to know what they heard or didn't hear.

Snow nods, her brows knit in that stupid, simpering, sympathetic way that Regina hates. "I'll never forget that sound... and the pain..."

Regina rolls a shoulder in agitation, frowns and mutters, "What are you talking about?"

"Gold gave us a spell, to find you," Snow explains. "It was like... Like I was inside of you. I could see what you saw, and feel what you felt. It was awful. I've never felt anything so painful."

Oh. Well, then.

Regina has just slightly more tolerance for the sympathetic act when she knows that Snow might actually have an ounce of real experience with what happened to her.

"I've certainly had more pleasant afternoons," she concedes.

"Why did he do that to you?"

Regina looks up at Snow, at those searching eyes, so baffled at the cruelty it takes to torture someone as a means to an end. But after all they've been through together, Regina figures there's no point in lying to her. She's sure the tale won't surprise Snow White in the least. Just another example of the Evil Queen's cruelty, her heartlessness.

So she's honest: "He was looking for his father."

"And he thought you knew how to find him? Why?"

"Because I did." Snow's frown deepens, and Regina looks up at the stars. It's not that she can't look the other woman in the eyes for her confession, it's just that... well, she'd simply rather not. "He and his father were camping outside Storybrooke the night it was created. The curse caused damage - it hit the forest like an electrical storm, and their truck needed repairs, so they were stuck in town for a little while. And suspicious - they'd passed through days before and there'd been no Storybrooke. I wanted them gone, and fast."

Snow lets out a disappointed sigh, and asks, "Regina, what did you do?" in a way that makes it sound like she already knew. See? Not an ounce of surprise.

"I didn't do anything," Regina told her with a little shrug, meeting her eyes for a moment. "I mean, I was my usual _pleasant_ self, but their truck was damaged, and there was nothing I could do about that. They had to stay until it was fixed. I was rude..." Her lips curve in a ghost of a sad smile. "And he was kind to me. The boy. The curse hadn't lived up to what I wanted, not really. I was still unhappy, but he... made me smile. He filled a hole, if only for a few days, and I did not want them to leave." She says that last part carefully, figuring Snow will follow her down the path she's opened.

"So you didn't let them," Snow surmises.

"No," Regina confirms. "I didn't let them. They were headed to the town line, and I had Graham pull them over. He arrested the father, but the boy, he got away. Crossed the town line and was out of my reach. When he came back, Storybrooke was cloaked. He says he spent the rest of his life trying to find his way back. So he could find his father."

"And the father?"

Regina listens to the sounds of the jungle for a minute - there's a particularly high-pitched frog somewhere to her left, and behind her. Out of sync with his brethren. She sympathizes. Then wishes he would shut the hell up.

Finally, she answers Snow. "I ripped out his heart and crushed it, as soon as the boy was gone. But I sure as hell wasn't telling that to the guy in charge of the voltage running through me."

"I would imagine not," Snow replies, with that judgey, accusatory air she's so good at. "And since you came out of the whole thing relatively unharmed, I don't feel the least bit bad saying that it sounds like you might have deserved the punishment you got."

Regina chuckles bitterly, but she doesn't deny it. In exchange for ruining a young boy's life she got a few hours of pain. Incredible, indescribable pain. But nothing she couldn't survive or recover from, so yes, she probably deserved the punishment she got.

She has a fleeting thought that maybe losing Henry was karma - she'd taken Greg Mendel's father, so fate saw fit that he would take her son.

But she refuses to accept that - absolutely refuses - because Henry is everything to her, and all she has, and despite what her traitorous brain may tell her when she's asleep he is the only person in the world who truly sees any amount of good in her. She will not lose him.

"We need to find Henry," she blurts, breaking the long silence between herself and Snow. She hadn't meant for it to come out, but she's so consumed with need and determination that she couldn't help it.

"We will," Snow assures her, all quiet confidence, and annoyingly placid about the whole thing. Annoyingly sure that good will win, even if good has Regina on its side this time.

Regina hates her, suddenly and fiercely. Hates her violently. Hates that she herself can't find that optimism that Snow White has always had shining out her ass, regardless of circumstance. Hates her so much that she can't bear to be this close anymore.

Regina stands with a suddenness that has Snow tipping away from her slightly, then she heads back down the trail without a word.

"Regina!"

She hears the rustle of leaves as Snow tries to catch up behind her, and knows she will, and wishes she wouldn't. And because she can, because she is not helpless, Regina disappears in a swirl of purple smoke, depositing herself smack in the middle of their little campsite, and a good five minutes ahead of Snow.

Of course when she reappears alone, Charming stands, all chivalrous concern. "Where's Snow?"

"She'll be back in a minute," Regina nearly growls, stalking back to her palette and laying down. She turns her back on Charming. Emma and Hook are already asleep again, and Regina closes her eyes and pretends to sleep, too.

She hears Snow return, hears Charming vilify Regina for leaving her behind, and hears Snow make excuses for her - _She's just upset about Henry, I'm alright, let it go..._

It doesn't make Regina feel any better.

Within minutes, the whole camp has fallen silent, but Regina lies awake for hours, thinking of Henry, and guilt, and the sharp, shocking pain of electricity.


End file.
